


Broken Wings

by XxTwistedEverAfterxX



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blood, Broken Wings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTwistedEverAfterxX/pseuds/XxTwistedEverAfterxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter who says it, whenever someone insults Matthew, Alfred can't help but be worked up into a rage of defence. Directing that rage at the Guards of The Wall was not his wisest idea, though he was lucky that Matthew knew how to help heal the aftermath. A prompt from Tumblr: Broken Wings and Blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Wings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravendarkwood](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ravendarkwood).



> Thank you so much for to ravendarkwood for sending this prompt in!! I periodically open up fanfic prompts and requests on my Tumblr, and this is one of those! Have some angel!Alfred and his magical human lover Matthew caring for him after an injury to his wings. It’s relatively fluffy, so no worries about a sad ending! I hope you like this~ Smooch smooch!

“Mattie… It hurts… It hurts, it hurts!”

“Shh, I know, Alfred, I know, I know. The pain will go away soon.”

Alfred was writhing, clawing at Matthew’s robe, grasping for purchase any which way he could, breaths sharp and metallic between sobs that heaved from deep within his chest. Tears stained his face in equal parts to the blood, mixing with the splattered crimson that had smeared along his golden tan, dripping to his robes.

“I don’t regret it… Mattie, I don’t regret it,” Alfred insisted, looking up at his lover, arching gingerly into his healing magic, waiting for the warmth to pass through him to his core, “I love you. I don’t regret it at all.”

“Shh, Alfred, I know. Just lay still, please,” he breathed, his hands smoothing down Alfred’s back, starting the pulse of violet hued energy, eyebrows creasing with strain, “I just regret that you got hurt for something so stupid.”

Alfred howled as his wings were touched, thrashing, and Matthew wrapped his legs tighter around him, locking his ankles and squeezed his thighs to keep him still, one hand wrapped around his waist to hold him and comfort him, the other hand focusing on the base of the injured wings. Splintered bone showed through the torn feathers, the golden plumage soaked crimson in splotches, some dislodged where holes had pierced the sensitive flesh from arrows that had struck in deep.

“You shouldn’t have challenged them, Alfred; you shouldn’t have gotten so worked up. They were taunting you on purpose,” Matthew scolded softly, stroking firmly along the wounds, blood staining his hands, though he focused more on the loud sobs and the jerking motions of Alfred’s powerful body, “They were baiting you. You’re lucky all they did was fire some arrows at you and keep blocking you in barricades. It could have been so much worse.”

“But they called you an abomination!” Alfred snarled, rearing his head up, wings flapping in rage before he let out a growled whine, twisting in Matthew’s arms in agony, burying his face again in Matthew’s chest, staining his robes further with tears and blood, “I can’t stand them! Just because you’re different… I hate it! I hate them!”

“Alfred,” Matthew sighed, clicking his tongue as he guided the wing to fold, putting force behind his gentle touch as he angled it to press at the bones that protruded, “I am different. I’m not winged. Don’t get so upset by the Guards—they’re bored sitting on their pedestals watching the walls all day and will make fun of everything and anything just for entertainment.”

“But they’re not allowed to make fun of you—I love you, and they’re not allowed and it’s mean and I hate it!”

Matthew rolled his eyes, the colours flickering an Aurora Borealis violet with glitters of gold from the stars as they flit across his iris like shooting stars, sliding through his veins and to his hands where they warmed the skin.

“You’re such a child about this,” he murmured, though he pressed a kiss to the crown of Alfred’s golden haired head, “Next time, don’t react. They could hurt you more than I can heal, or maybe you won’t find me in time. What would I do then, eh?” 

Alfred sniffled, beginning to, at last, calm from his tears and temper tantrum the more his wings healed, the appendage so sensitive even the slightest brush felt like an electrical shock. Matthew could only imagine how much this hurt him with such hypersensitivity, and could only start to wonder what exactly had been said to rile Alfred up so viciously to make the guards fire arrows at his wings to shoot him down from the skies. Though they liked to scare many of them, taunt and tease, they were rarely aggressive, which only meant that they had somehow felt threatened.

A smug smirk curled Matthew’s lips thinking of what Alfred might have done to scare the Guards into attacking—into ganging up on him and attacking, as Matthew had counted five all circling the air above like vultures, arrows drawn back and screeching in the special tongue that the seer couldn’t understand clearly, but knew it to be threats, as Alfred was shrieking back at them, teeth bared and flopping over every time he tried to fly, though aggression had been clear in his body language. 

“I’m sorry, Mattie,” Alfred whispered, bloodied hands fisting Matthew’s robe tighter, curling up between his legs as he let his wings be tucked in close to his back and then stretched out again, the warmth a heavy pulse that soothed the pain tremendously, leeched it out, and left him feeling only exhausted, though significantly better.

“You should be, making me worry like that,” Matthew huffed, lips brushing Alfred’s temple in a soft kiss, “And for ruining my clothes, bleeding all over me.”

“I’m sorry I bled on you, Mattie.”

Matthew paused, softening, and he sighed, studying the stretch and bend of the former broken wing, moving it gingerly to make sure he’d fixed up what he could.

“Alfred… I love you, and that’s why I’m frustrated, that’s all. You don’t have to apologise for bleeding, but…” 

Sighing heavily, Matthew shook his head, letting the wing ease down to rest against the ground, tucked in amongst bushes and trees, and allowing the sun that filtered through to warm up Alfred’s cooled body. He had chilled a little from the blood loss, but he would warm up soon, especially pressed to Matthew like he was a heat pack.

“Don’t get so angry just because someone calls me an outsider, or whatever. Don’t risk your wings for it,” Matthew continued, tipping Alfred’s head up, using his robe to gently wipe at the blood on his face to clean it off, rubbing harder at some of the dried patches, along with the tears, “You know how much I love flying with you, eh? So come on, cheer up, Al. Don’t let this get you down.”

At the soft pinch to his cheeks, Alfred’s lips curled upwards, bright blue eyes still wet, but the smile stretched upwards, and he nodded, nuzzling Matthew affectionately, the seer sighing as he was caged in by the healed wings, accepting the tenderness with a small roll of his eyes.

“You’re still washing my robes as punishment, though. Blood is a bitch to get out of white.”


End file.
